Katrina
by emeraldstoker
Summary: This is based on a combination of the Book by Washington Irving and the cartoon the Adventures of Ichabod Crane and Mr. Toad and is told through the eyes of Katrina Van Tassel. What if she really had cared for that gangly Schoolmaster?
1. Katrina

"Now like a storm or prairie fire, swarming

Steadily after Hektor, son of Priram

The Trojans roared as one man..."

"Katrina..."

"On the verge,

They thought of capturing the Akaian ships

And dealing death to the best men around them

But now from the deep water..."

"Katrina!"

Katrina jumped a little bit as she looked up and beheld her father's impatient expression. It took an effort not to slam the book down. "Yes, father?" It was uncanny the knack her beloved patriarch had for interrupting at the most exiting bits of stories.

"Reading again, are you?" He huffed.

"Yes, father." Katrina held her tongue against the impertinent question, "Did you barge in on my reading just to ask me that?"

"Well you can stop for a while. The cook has prepared a picnic lunch as it's such a lovely day and some of the boys from the village are standing by to help us set up. I thought you could go on ahead with them and pick out a good spot."

"Will Mr. Bones be among them?" Katrina asked warily.

"I'm afraid not. He's off on a hunting party and won't be back till this afternoon at the earliest."

"Oh that's alright then. I'll go." Katrina got up from her chair, placed a pretty bonnet on her golden head and took up a pink parasol. The other boys were a bit boring compared to Homer but she could tolerate them without their ringleader.

"All right?" Her father asked in obvious confusion. "I thought you two were courting. He asked my permission and I granted it."

"He didn't ask mine, father." Katrina replied crisply. "And even if he did, he would not get it."

"Katrina..." Her father spoke under his breath as she kissed him fondly on the cheek and skipped lightly out the door.


	2. Enter the Coquette

"Act one, scene one, the picnic. Enter the Coquette." Katrina thought with a touch of humor as she approached the boys who awaited her eagerly baskets, blankets and parasols already in hand. She greeted each of them in turn ruffling hair, pinching cheeks, stroking chins. They all looked like they could not be happier if a queen had granted them all knighthoods and a fortune in gold.

"This is far too easy." Katrina thought already a little bored. She could not understand girls who made this game of charming men and getting them to do as they wished their soul occupation. Of course when she played she had the added advantage of practically perfect beauty. More than once she had heard herself described as "plump as a partridge, ripe and melting..." among other silly yet flattering adjectives. She knew how to dress, what styles of different eras old and current suited her best but if that was all she ever thought about she would have gone insane. "Shall we then? " She asked trotting daintily and quickly ahead of them and smiled over her shoulder to see them trotting to keep up with her "Hmmm how many spots shall I allow them to set up in and then reject today?" It was a little cruel and Katrina knew it but she had to do something to amuse herself. If even one of the boys in the village sparked anything but a sort of friendly contempt in her she would not feel such inclinations.

It was a beautiful spot on a sunny hillside. Katrina smiled and was about to tell the boys she was pleased with the third spot when she chanced to glance over her shoulder and across a largish stream dotted with rocks. A tall slender man sat with his back against a tree totally absorbed in a book. She nearly gasped in surprise. When she turned back to the boys a gentle frown wreathed her face and she shook her head.

Without a word, the boys once again packed up the baskets, blankets and parasols ready to go where Katrina directed them next. She ran ahead hoping gracefully over the rocks and listening to the lumbering splashes of the party behind her. She turned, nodded her head in approval and scurried away to find out who this mysterious and presumably learned stranger was.

As she drew closer, Katrina was able to take in more of his singular appearance. He was thin to the point of looking rather fragile and had long legs that seemed to stretch endlessly in front of him though they ended at quite frankly the largest feet she had ever seen. His face was one that touched the heart and provoked a smile at the same time with skin pale as wax, large heavily hooded eyes, delicate chin, sensitive mouth, huge sticking out ears and a large but not undignified nose. Dark brown hair was tied in a pony tale. Katrina had never seen the like of a man like him before and doubted she would again. She felt suddenly and strangely shy but still determined to meet him.

He must have come to the end of a chapter or an act as he closed the book and looked up his mouth hanging open as he stared at her. Katrina was too used to this to be perturbed and she noticed the man had quite striking dark blue eyes. She smiled and asked, "a diverting read?"

"Humm? Oh yes! Very..."

"May I see?"

"Certainly." He picked up a tattered three-cornered hat and gave it to her.

Katrina laughed. "Heady subject matter."

The man's pale cheeks flushed as he realized his mistake. "I am so sorry! Where is my head today? Here you are." He took back the hat and handed Katrina the book he'd been reading before remembering to stand up and bow politely to her.

Katrina hardly noticed the familiar gestures. "Macbeth. Oh I adore Shakespeare!" She handed him back the book blushing a little herself. "I'm sorry. I have been remiss myself. I am Katrina Van Tassel." She held her hand out to him.

"Ichabod Crane." He replied kissing her hand lightly. "I am the new school teacher... wait... Katrina Van Tassel?" Katrina nodded. Ichabod's Adam's apple bobbed in his slender throat. "You're part of a rather important family, then?"

"Technically yes but we are a close-knit community, very informal. Please do not concern yourself with such trivial details. And please do come join us at our picnic."

Ichabod's eyes seemed to light up a little more at the suggestion. "I would not be so ungallant as to refuse your hospitality."


	3. The Pleasure of his Company

Katrina could tell the other young men were not best pleased at the addition to the company. Ichabod had a large appetite both for the food and her company. She initially made an effort to keep the conversation general but it quickly turned to topics only she and Ichabod could follow.

"I was just telling Mr. Crane what an informal community we are." Katrina said. "I mean father does descend from quite noble lines but were he expected to act like an aristocrat he would feel as silly as... as..."

"As the peasant in the opening act of Taming of the Shrew?" Offered Ichabod by way of example.

Katrina clapped her hands in delight. "Oh yes! One of my favorite scenes ever. I would so love to see it performed. Actually Taming of the Shrew is one of my favorite plays in all."

"Not Romeo and Juliet then?"

Katrina shrugged her shoulders. "No. I do like it but... the plot is not very interesting. It seems it's all about two families hating each other for no justifiable cause and their two children who love each other for about as much reason."

"Why is Taming of the Shrew such a favorite?"

"Well...I suppose it's because I like the idea that a mask or a role need not have any bearing on who a person is really." Katrina's face went red and she took a sip of apple cider feeling like her literary discussion with this newcomer had delved into rather personal territory. For a time, the conversation did become more general.

Katrina asked Ichabod to escort her home. "I should like you to meet my father. Village schoolteacher is an admirable job but a dreadfully low-paid one. Perhaps he could find you some other small commission in the town as a supplement."

The young man seemed rather nervous at the prospect but he offered Katrina his arm and they started for the Van Tassel home. Halfway through a very pleasant walk in which Ichabod related some controversial views of Voltaire, a French intellectual hitherto unknown to Katrina, the athletic and towering form of Abraham (Brom) Bones blocked the path.

What are you doing with this spookish girl's blouse then, Katrina?"

Katrina gave Ichabod a perfectly charming smile. "Please forgive Mr. Bones, Mr. Crane. He takes the whole informal motif a bit too far." She turned to Brom with a reproving look. "This is Mr. Ichabod Crane, Brom."

"I know who he is." Brom sneered.

"And yet I don't believe I've had the... pleasure." Ichabod commented with a touch of haunter,

"This is Abraham Bones but everyone calls him Brom."

Brom looked over Ichabod with a cold eye before turning back to Katrina. "Well now that the formalities are over, what about that Halloween dance coming up, Katrina?"

"What about it?"

"Well... we're going together, right?"

"No, we are not."

"But I thought we were courting. I got your father's permission."

"And as long as that is the case, "Ichabod put in, "You might ask her father to the

dance."

Katrina giggled. "Anyway, Ichabod you were telling me about this fascinating belief system used to reconcile science with religion?"

"Ah yes, deism." They resumed their walk and conversation leaving Brom bewildered and insulted in the road.


	4. Father

"Father, this is Mr. Ichabod Crane." Katrina said as she led Ichabod into her home. The young man's eyes widened at what must have been for him the rich surroundings.

"Ah yes the school master. How do you do, sir?"

"Very well, thank you sir." Ichabod.

"Now tell me, how did you two chance to meet?"

"It was in the park, father." Katrina explained. "He was reading and I was curious about the choice of literature."

Her father shook his head but smiled a little. "Katrina is always reading herself. A ridiculous pastime for a lovely young lady." Katrina fought the impulse to role her eyes.

"I must respectfully disagree Mr. Van Tassel." Ichabod spoke softly but with conviction. "Everyone should cultivate their minds so far as their powers allow them."

"Yes well, she's cultivated her mind to such an extent that she's made herself too smart and an unsuitable match for every young man in the village."

"Perhaps not every young man anymore, father." Katrina said slyly with a glance over her shoulder at Ichabod who blushed deep crimson. "But I nearly forgot the rest of the reason for coming here. Schoolteachers are paid such a small amount. I thought perhaps there might be something else Mr. Crane might do about the village that would bring him a little extra income."

"I see. We'll probably find you something, my dear fellow but... farm labor or hunting is definitely not in the cards, eh?"

"No sir." Ichabod said meekly and looked at the floor as if ashamed.

"Father!" Katrina cried hotly." How can you?"

"All in good fun, Katrina. You musical, Mr. Crane?"

"Oh yes sir." Ichabod brightened. " I'm quite proficient on the piano."

"Let's hear you then." Her father indicated the large well-polished mahogany piano.

Ichabod sat down at the instrument and began to play a piece by Mozart apparently from memory his eyes closed and his large but very slender, long fingered hands dancing over the keys. Katrina's heart swelled as she listened and watched and even more so when his body began to sway with the music. Every aspect of this funny, charming man took on a new dignity and an impeccable grace as he played.

All to soon, the piece was finished. Ichabod rose from the instrument awaited her father's verdict on his abilities.

"Excellent!" Her father boomed with approval. "I believe we have a new singing instructor. I expect you can sing as well?"

"Yes sir."

"Read music?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Start tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you, sir."

"Yes, thank you father!" Katrina kissed his round cheek happily.

"Only too glad. Now Katrina why don't you run along for a bit? I've some things to discuss alone with Mr. Crane."

Katrina curtsied and obediently left the room closing the door behind her but then silently knelt down and pressed her ear to the keyhole. She had a feeling this concerned her. If it did not, she would leave them to it.

"Well my good man, Crane, it seems that my daughter is quite fond of you."

"It does seem that way, sir."

"Do you wish my permission to court her?"

"Yes sir, I would."

"You know you'd have a strong rival in Brom Bones."

"It does not seem that way, sir. We encountered Mr. Bones on our way back from the park and Katrina seems to well... frankly despise him."

"Ah, a lover's tiff. Normally they are seen everywhere together."

Katrina felt her color rise in anger. Why was her father lying to Ichabod like this? If she ever was seen anywhere with Brom it was because he decided to show up and inflict his beastly society on her.

"Oh... well I shall try anyway sir."

"Stout fellow! Figuratively speaking. You have my leave."


	5. The Kiss

Because of the vast space available, the singing lessons were held in the very parlor Ichabod had auditioned for the job in. Katrina was therefore privy to the cacophony of various women from the village trying to sing everything from country songs to opera.

She went down to visit Ichabod after the lesson and not much to her surprise found him with his head in his hands rubbing his temples.

"A trying lesson?" She asked setting a steaming cup of tea on the piano next to where he still sat on the bench.

"Excruciating..." He replied picking up the cup and taking a long swallow of tea. "Chamomile?"

"Call it womanly intuition but I had a feeling you might have a headache."

He nodded. "Ear to ear pain. Thank you. You are an angel."

Katrina smiled and sat down next to him on the bench, deciding not to mention that she usually was not such an "angel" as he called her. In fact she could not deny that she was really quite cruel to most the men in her acquaintance but she could not imagine acting that way to Ichabod. Fate seemed to have been unkind enough. Fancy such a learned, debonair gentleman wearing threadbare, second-hand clothing and accepting the low-paid work of village schoolteacher. Yet he was so cheerful and for the most part uncomplaining about his life though it was plain he wished for a better one. Katrina was so absorbed in thoughts about this still mysterious young man that she did not realize that her face had been drifting closer to his and he had responded in kind.

This wasn't right. Katrina knew she made men weak with her kisses but her knees had never trembled so. She had never wrapped her fingers around the backs of one of their necks to keep their lips against hers and yet that is exactly what she did now when Ichabod kissed her. First he had just ever so slightly brushed her mouth with his before trapping and gently sucking her lower lip. Apparently responding to the fingers on his neck, he again kissed her full on the lips and much more firmly than before. Katrina heard herself moan softly as she parted her lips and slipped her tongue past Ichabod's who startled slightly at the new sensation or perhaps the boldness of the gesture but then relaxed, moaned a little himself and responded in kind softly tasting the inside of Katrina's mouth. She could not help but contrast this with Brom's slobbering attempts.

At last they had to part for breath. Katrina blushed at the desire in Ichabod's eyes and knew that hers reflected the same feeling back at him.

"Katrina..." He stammered, "Shall we attend the upcoming Halloween celebrations together?"

"On two conditions."

"Name them."

"First tell me how on earth you learned to kiss like that."

"One can learn almost anything from books my dear if you know the ones to choose."

"Not the most satisfactory answer... but then the second condition is paramount."

"And that is..."

"Do it again."


	6. A Fine Party, an Uneasy Depature

Katrina smiled to herself as she wrote a note to Ichabod on a piece of her father's good parchment paper sprinkled with a dash of rosewater, her favorite fragrance:

_To Mr. Ichabod Crane,_

_I should be delighted to accept your proposal that we attend the Halloween Festivities together. Please be at my home by 7-tomorrow night._

_Affectionately yours,_

_Miss. Katrina Van Tassel._

She gave the missive to Mrs. Nelson the housekeeper and sat back down at her desk with a sigh. Katrina never thought she would feel this way about anyone. She now fondly recalled all the time spent with Ichabod, the long walks, the books, the discussions and most of all the company of someone with whom she did not have to hide her passion for learning.

Katrina was aware that everyone in the village knew what was going on between them. She heard the gossip that reflected the same mixed emotions as Ichabod's arrival in town. Some lauded her selection of such a well-bred young man whereas others scorned her rejection of the stronger and therefore "superior" Brom. Some married women giggled for unknown reasons about the size of his feet and hands. Katrina did not care what they said. She would marry Ichabod. Her emotions were far from mixed.

"You are ravishing tonight, my darling." Ichabod bowed and kissed her hand upon arrival at the Van Tassel home set up for the dance. At the moment the air was simply brisk but the promise of a dusting of snow hung in the air.

"Oh I know my dear but I do like hearing you say so." Katrina responded and returned the kiss on Ichabod's cheek and frowned at finding the flesh upon it slightly chilled from the long ride from the schoolhouse. "Come, a cup of hot apple cider and a lively jig should drive the cold from you."

Katrina had never enjoyed dancing so much in her life. Ichabod's loose joints moved with a quick yet liquid grace and though unwieldy his feet never trod on her toes. Brom could never avoid this mishap when they used to dance. She had not meant to even allow Brom into her thoughts tonight but it was hard not to as he sat glowering at them from the corner resenting Ichabod all the more. The fury in his cold eyes unnerved Katrina a little and the feeling of unease grew upon her as a pile of drained bear steins grew around his booted feet.

The dancing portion over, it was time to gather round and tell stories. Ichabod courteously excused himself for the moment to take a lingering visit to one of the well-stocked buffet tables. His appetite always amused Katrina and flattered their cook who loved it when Ichabod dined at the Van Tassel household though it meant having an extra basted turkey on standby.

Just as Ichabod finished gathering a repast, Brom began a macabre tale of the Headless Horseman. For all his faults, Brom was an excellent storyteller though Katrina suspected if she married him she would have heard a lot of tall tales especially late at night.

The effect on the schoolteacher was quite profound. Ichabod was ridiculously superstitious for a man of such learning. The contrast between the Ichabod who explained the scientific theories of Newton to her and the Ichabod trembling before tales of spooks was too great for Katrina not to laugh though she felt badly about it afterward and was furious at Brom. Poor Ichabod had barely been able to touch the food he had gathered.

AS the party drew to a close, Ichabod and Katrina said their affectionate goodnights. A light snow was falling and Katrina bit her lip in concern as she watched Ichabod ride off.

"Don't worry about your darling Ichabod, Katrina." Her nose wrinkled at the smell of too much beer and she turned around to find Brom hovering over her. "He won't be out in the cold for long. I told him to take the shortcut through the woods."

"That is very kind of you, Brom," Katrina said surprised at his thoughtful gesture yet still wishing to edge away from the unsavory brute who was always worse when drunk.

"It was, wasn't it?" He said as he turned to leave.


	7. The Havoc of the Horseman

As the unseasonable snowfall grew heavier, so too did Katrina's anxiety.

"If he took the short cut through the woods he must be home by now..." She told herself changing into woolen stockings, a sturdy riding habit, boots and her good cloak. "I'll take him some good wine and a little sponge cake. I can't help but worry about him. He looked so pale as he left."

Katrina knew such a visit strained propriety but she did not care. She and Ichabod were practically engaged anyway so what harm could it do? She would not sleep tonight at all if she did not do as she planned.

Katrina rode through the dark trees with a sense of foreboding. She did not believe in the headless horseman and knew the woods around her home well. Ichabod did not however and suddenly Brom's gesture appeared less kind. Her worst suspicions were nearly confirmed as she came across a pumpkin charred and smashed against a tree.

"Brom what have you done?" She dismounted her horse and tied her to a tree to have a more careful look around. She gasped as the terrible sight of Icahbod's prostrate form lying on the frosted ground. She knelt down beside him and felt his limp, damp and chilled wrist for a pulse whispering a prayer of thanks as she found one though it was quite faint. She ran back to her horse, grabbed the small cask of wine out of the saddlebag and held it to Ichabod's slightly blue lips and nearly wept with relief to see them open and take a little. His eyes flickered.

"Katrina..."

"Yes, Ichabod. It's all right." She said taking off her cloak and throwing it around him. "Now try to stand up and we'll ride my horse back to my home."


	8. Punishing Arrogance

" Will he be alright, Doctor?" Katrina asked anxiously wringing her white hands until they glowed red.

"Too soon to say I'm afraid. He's running quite a fever but I don't dare bleed him much as he's lost quite a bit of blood already from a stab wound in his upper shoulder. All else aside he was lucky. Another few inches and whatever inflicted the wound would have cut his throat."

Katrina shivered. "May I see him?"

"I'm afraid I'm not quite through with the examination and it would not be quite...proper for you to enter at the moment."

"Well then finish!" Katrina snapped and stalked out of the house.

The night air was damp and cold against Katrina's flushed cheeks and more of a relief than anything else as she sank down on the porch and felt the tears she had been holding back since finding Ichabod form in her eyes and trickle down her face. Her shoulders shook with sobs. "Please let him be all right..." She whispered to no one in particular, perhaps to God but she really did not know. She'd never been so miserable in her life and believed she could not feel any worse. She was wrong.

Brom Bones swaggered up the steps a half-drunk grin and a roguish song on his lips. "Hi Katrina!" He called out and waved cheerfully to her. "What's the matter?"

Katrina stared at him her grief not disappearing but becoming somewhat overshadowed by pure, violent hatred. He wore an empty scabbard for a sword around his waist and his boots were stained with fresh wet mud. She stood up her heart pounding and picked up a rock, which she hurled at his head. It glanced off his shoulder.

"Owww!" He cried and gave her an indignant look. "What was that for?"

"You bastard!" She screamed at him not caring who heard. "I know what you did to poor Ichabod!"

"What I did... a harmless prank, Katrina that's all." He smirked. "No call for such language."

"A harmless prank?! You charge at him with a sword, stab him in the shoulder and then leave him to bleed or freeze to death alone in the woods! And the only reason he was just wounded was because you were too drunk to actually sever his neck like you intended!"

"You can't prove I intended to do that. For all you know I'd only wanted to scare him to get him away from my girl and never meant to hurt him."

"I am not your girl, Brom and I never was!" Katrina hissed. "Just because you had father's permission to try and get my affections does not mean you got them. You never did, you haven't and you never will and whatever your intentions I hate you more than ever! And if he dies from this I would not shed a tear to see you tarred, feathered and hung by the neck in the streets!"

"Miss Van Tassel..." The doctor called from the door, "he's asking for you."


	9. Better?

Katrina quickly dried her eyes and followed the doctor to the sick room.

Ichabod's face was ashen, nearly gray though his cheeks burned crimson. He mumbled in a fitful sleep, almost certainly in a frightened delirium. There was a bandage around his left shoulder, slightly stained with blood at the center. Katrina sat down beside him and brushed her cool hand against his hot cheek. Once again his eyes slowly opened and then looked at her.

"Katrina..." he croaked out and then coughed. She noticed a glass of water on the bedside table and held it to his mouth. He swallowed a little of it and continued. "The horseman..."

"Shhh. I know darling." She soothed stroking his brow gently. "But you're safe now." Ichabod nodded and allowed his eyes to close once again. He did not seem to be asleep so Katrina continued, "I'm here and I promise to stay and nurse you till all is well only... do promise you'll get better?"

Ichabod's eyes opened once again and he smiled softly at Katrina taking a small, plump hand into one of his long thin ones. "I am a great deal better already."


End file.
